Amon vs Voldemort
by Radentor
Summary: When Voldemort awakens near an Equalist rally in Republic City he is confronted by the masked man, Amon, who knows that the robed figure with glowing red eyes is not all what he seems.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone! This is the very first fan fiction I ever wrote, back from the days when we were still trying to figure out who Amon really was. Yes, I began writing this before the first season of the Legend of Korra was over. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Voldemort slowly opened his eyes realized that he was lying on the cold, hard ground outside and stood up. He had been in the dark chamber in Malfoy Manor plotting his rise to power when he had fallen asleep. Before, his head had been buzzing with all of the information his faithful Death Eaters had brought him and he was mulling it all over, forming plans on how to stealthily carry out his take over of the entire wizarding world. Now he had no clue as to where he was, however he was far from frightened. He had his body back, his powers. Even without his army of Death Eaters, dementors, giants, and other assorted monsters, he was a force to be reckoned with.  
All around him were some sort of factories. Metal pipes and tubing crisscrossed and twisted, connecting buildings for unknown purposes. Farther away, he could see the light of the residential and consumer parts of a city. He began to stride towards the city, reaching for his wand, just in case. He was proud, certainly, but not foolish. Anything could lurk here, and the closer he got to the city the more he noticed the little details. Everything had an exotic Eastern influence in it, even the people, but it looked like it was still developing yet. It certainly was not his world, nor his time period. He had heard of wizards doing this, traveling between worlds, discovering amazing things. Perhaps he was about to discover something great, make his mark upon history in more than one way. A smile played across his snake-like face. He would then be immortal both physically and mentally, living on in history as the greatest wizard ever!  
Just as he was thinking this, he came upon a clear space of concrete between the industrial area, and the sidewalk and street. He made about halfway across this drab stretch of concrete when-  
**BOOM!**  
A lower portion of the building across the street blew up, throwing people, and shrapnel everywhere, and on the roof of the building was a completely calm looking man. He had a mask over his face and a hood. Voldemort looked up at the man, wondering why he just stood there at the top of a burning building. A crowd of people began to assemble and the base of the building moving stealthily and with great agile. Upon closer scrutiny, Voldemort noticed that the crowd was mostly made up of men and women dressed head to toe in strange suits; wearing abnormally large, green goggles. The man on top of the burning building raised a hand and silence fell. Meanwhile, more and more of the strangely dressed people slithered in from seemingly nowhere. The man's hand clenched and became a fist.  
"Equality!" The masked man said loudly  
_"Equality!"_ Echoed the people whom Voldemort assumed were his followers.

Off in the distance he heard the sirens. The Metalbending Police Officers were sure to be here soon. Amon lowered his fist, and began to speak to the Equalists.  
"My fellow Equalists, welcome! As you can see, tonight wee shall be observing the destructive potential of a single firebender. If you look below me, you can clearly see the devastation that it causes."  
As if to prove his point, something inside the building fell and made a huge noise, releasing a stream of flames from the windows before dying back down.  
"Fortunately, this was only a simulation: a single bomb set inside an old unused apartment building. A _real_ firebender would not simply stop after starting a fire! Nor would he care if the building was empty or filled to the brim with poor families scraping away a chance at life! And these are the people who rule over the city. We must tear down the pedestal that the benders sit luxuriously upon, while they abuse us and their 'gifts'."  
He fell silent again. The sirens were much closer now; a blimp could be seen floating a football field away. All throughout Amon's speech he had sensed something. Something strange. What was it? He glanced around, not moving his head, only his eyes. There! Someone was watching him. It looked like no one he had ever seen. The figure wore a long, dark set of robes with a hood that concealed his face. He had large, pale hands with long spindly fingers. From under the figure's hood, Amon though he might have seen a glint of red.  
"Remember what we stand for!"  
And Amon walked away from the crowd, towards the back of the building to where his followers could not see him.

Below, there was a shuffle and the Equalists readied their weapons. Some wore a glove that crackled with electricity. Others pulled out ropes with weights on the end, and some just took fighting stances. Voldemort was intrigued. This was very interesting, and the masked leader was good at what he did.

"Everyone stop where you are!"

A voice echoed from the blimp and at the same time a large truck of men and women came around a corner at the end of the block. Men emerged from the blimp, shooting out metal cords from their vambraces as they lowered themselves into the Equalist fray. They were joined seconds later by the men and women from the truck. Voldemort watched as people performed martial arts, and was stunned when he saw them control and manipulate the elements. Fire lashed out at an Equalist, but they dodged it. A woman with 3 ponytails managed to freeze one of them, making the water she moved turn to ice. She then proceeded to stomp on the ground, lifting a near man sized chunk of rock and dirt; hurling it straight into the middle of the Equalist party.

"Can I help you, stranger?"

Voldemort whipped around, producing his wand from his robes. There stood the masked leader of the Equalists, leaning against a metal pillar supporting a pipe.

Voldemort smirked.  
"Perhaps you can. As you can tell, I am not from here. Where exactly am I?"  
Amon looked at the man in front of him. His face was still concealed by the shadow of the hood he wore, and up close Amon noticed he carried a strange air about him. Very deadly, like a coiled up lizard-snake.  
"You are in Republic City. A place where benders and non benders are supposed to be able to live together. As equals. You can see how 'equal' things are now," he gestured to the Chi-blockers and the benders still fighting across the street, "but it's all about to change."

Voldemort noted how he sounded so sure, and so calmly exhilarated at the thought of the downfall of these 'benders'.

"I see. And would these benders happen to be the people wielding the power of the elements?"

Amon nodded.

"Then how do you plan on defeating them? They are quite impressive, if a little flashy. On another note, I've noticed that they are using the most basic and primitive elements, but one is missing."

"Air?"

"Yes."

"The air nomads were nearly wiped out in the 100 year war. Only one, the Avatar, survived. He restored 'balance', and now there are a total of four airbenders. Five once the Avatar learns and six if the airbending master's next child is an airbender."

Voldemort was listening, making connections, assumptions, but he acted as though he understood perfectly.

"Now," said Amon, "how about _you_ answer _my_ questions?"

Voldemort became enraged. He had not been spoken to like that since… since he had been blamed for the things he caused at the orphanage. Who was this simpleton to demand _anything_ from him?

"Do you have any idea who I am?"  
Voldemort's voice was cool and deceivingly calm.

Amon stood there, with his arms behind his back. His muscles tense and ready to spring into action.  
"I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard to ever roam my world, and yours! And soon to be ruler of the entire wizarding world!"

Voldemort slashed at the air with his wand, and a jet of green light burst from the tip. Amon ducked, and was almost on Voldemort when-

"Protego!"

Amon was thrown backwards by the force of the shield.

He rolled and landed on one knee, his hands on the ground to keep himself steady. Another jet of emerald light issued from the wand and Amon flung himself to the side, out of view behind a standing pipeline. He felt the ground where he had been explode and broken pieces of concrete tapped against his armor. If this mans power could destroy stone… He leapt forward as he heard another spell whistle through the air on the other side of the tube, and the boom as it made contact. Six Equalists from across the street had managed to beat back some of the benders and came to Amon's aid. Voldemort turned to face them and pointed his wand at their group.  
"Impedimenta!"  
Two of them ran headfirst into an invisible wall.  
"Imperio!"  
Another 2 began to turn and attack their friends.

Voldemort, having dealt with the attackers turned to find Amon right in front of him. Before he could attack, Amon pulled back Voldemort's hood to reveal his face. It was pale white, with slits for nostrils and gleaming red eyes. Amon was repulsed, but he showed no fear and quickly placed a thumb to the forehead this 'man'. With his other hand, he grabbed Voldemort's robes and pulled him forward into a kneeling position. With this done, he entered Voldemort's mind and soul to find the source of his power… and rip out of him.


	2. Chapter 2

Bending is a part of your soul. It helps to define and shape who you are. To have your bending removed is to have a piece of your soul missing. When Amon entered Voldemort's soul he was shocked to find hardly anything. It had been ripped, torn, and filled with blood lust and dark ambitions.  
7…  
The number seemed to press itself upon Amon, yet he had no clue what it meant. Pushing it aside, he dug deeper into Voldemort's fragmented soul. This, he guessed, is what caused or contributed to this mans frightening looks. Amon suppressed a shudder as the image of Voldemort's face floated to the forefront of his mind. This..._thing's_ soul was so deformed it would be difficult to find the source of his power. He went farther, trying to get to the bottom of this. Perhaps a glance at his mind would help to clarify. What better place to start a search than where one hides their greatest secrets? Amon entered Voldemort's mind to find it…empty? Something was wrong, but before he could do anything the door to Voldemort's mind slammed shut, locking Amon inside.

Voldemort was careful in his luring of this man into his mind. He was formidable, cunning, and clearly much more than he seemed. He was the meaning of mystery in every sense, but once he had entered Voldemort's mind, he would be powerless to stop Voldemort from possessing him, or perhaps just breaking him and leaving. There was surely so much to learn about this world, and this power, this "bending," intrigued him. These people spoke no words, and waved no wands, yet they held the power of the four basic elements. They would move and the elements would obey. But this leader of the Equalists… Amon. He was different, he could not bend, but he could do something much more dangerous. He could enter and manipulate one's soul. Voldemort had only been able to do this using the most advanced of dark spells, but Amon was clearly an amateur at Legilimency and Occlumency. Or whatever they called it in this world. And once Amon took the fight between their souls and made it the fight between their minds, Voldemort had gained the upper hand. Even now he was busy searching Amon's head for information. Anything that could be useful, anything relevant to his world, or possibilities as to why he was there.

Voldemort felt Amon's mind go fluid, slippery. Before he could readjust his minds grip on him he slipped out, completely avoiding Voldemort's mental chains. Before he could get control of his body, Voldemort felt Amon slip back into his soul. He was completely defenseless; it would take at least a month long preparation to prepare for a voyage into his or another persons soul.

Amon had escaped. Instead of lingering, he went back to finding this man's powers. There had to be something, anything…then he heard it. It started as a whisper,  
"Protego."

Amon recognized that word, it was what Voldemort had said before Amon was thrown backward… that was the key! He eagerly searched for more, following the sound of that whisper.  
Then another one, this time a phrase, rang through Amon's soul and made him tremble.  
"Avada Kedavra."

He had no clue what it meant, but from the way it affected him, he guessed that it was very dark, and very powerful. He navigated closer to the source and found it. A portion of his soul that was prized, and cherished. Upon closer inspection, Amon could see that this fragment of soul had already been ripped out, but then stuffed back in and sewn back into place. It was crude, but clearly effective. Amon reached for the fragment, the source of this mans power, intending to end this.

**"No."**

A strong voice rumbled throughout Voldemort and Amon's souls. Amon stopped. What was this? Another trick?

**"Interaction between worlds is forbidden."**

Amon felt something, something strong, _very_ strong separate his and Voldemort's souls. He had missed his chance. They were both forced into the physical world, Amon's hand resting on Voldemort's forehead. With a blast of white light, Voldemort vanished. Amon crumpled to his knees. The great presence that had stopped him from removing Voldemort's power had disappeared. He looked over at the battle, it was nearly over. Many benders were fallen, and the rest were mobilizing, preparing to retreat. Today was a victory. Or was it….

"My lord."  
Bellatrix Lestrange's voice cut through Voldemort's hazy mind. He opened his eyes, once again on the ground, but back in the private chamber that the Malfoys had offered him at their manor. She was kneeling at his side, with a few of his other followers standing in a circle around them. He was back in his own world.  
_"Too bad,"_ he thought dryly, _"there was so much opportunity in the other world for me to rule, so much to discover."_  
He pushed himself to his feet and waved a hand at the Death Eaters, signaling his disinterest in their company. He sat himself back upon the black throne, pondering what had happened to him, and what had become of the man in the mask.


End file.
